


The Redemption of Jiub

by HermitWitch



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind, Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Gen, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 23:48:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21687778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HermitWitch/pseuds/HermitWitch
Summary: An ode to the trials of St. Jiub, meant to be recited with plenty of gusto during St. Jiub's Fair. Written by one of Vivec's own Buoyant Armigers, Dayn Veleth(OC).
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	The Redemption of Jiub

A shadow falls as screams rend the air, I pity you, traveler, you've been caught unaware

The Winged Menace hath sought you and now you must fly, harried hither and thither until one of you dies

A sad end for many who trek Vvardenfell, a sad end that ended with a true Hero's tale

A killer he was, a slave to his vices, giving himself to all that entices

Chasing his whims, having concern for no other, he fell for a trap, from one prison to another

Pondering his life while he did languish, a new purpose took root amongst all the anguish

When the day did arrive for emancipation, he set forth to act on his premeditation

"Winged Menace!" he cried. "The Scourge of the Skies! Retribution is here, come and meet your demise!"

And so armed with a spear and nary a bracer, the man went to war with every Cliff Racer

Many years later we catch up with the man, a bow on his back, a glass sword in his hand

He glides on a silt-strider in the open, a taunt, daring the creatures to bring an end to his hunt

It is close, he can feel it, his work almost done, he pulls out his bow to fell his quarry, just one

His aim is true, the beast screaming its last, when to his horror a cloud rises fast

An ambush, a trick, will he never learn? The flames of his pride hath blinded him of their burn

He alights to the ground with his sword held up high, no matter the victor, the ending is nigh

A flurry of wings, screeching, and claws, the battle does rage for two days without pause

When the ash starts to settle, the man looks around, seventy-six are dead and no more to be found

Bloodied and bruised, he looks to the skies, now freed from his burden he closes his eyes

Later, he awakened, sore but not dead, his mind clouded with wonder as he lifted his head

A high ceiling above, the cold floor below, how he came to be here he would never know

The man saw Him then, felt His sharp, golden gaze, Lord Vivec himself floating up on the dais

"My Lord!" cried the man, on his knees in prostration, trembling from abject fear and elation

"You have proven your worth," said the Warrior Poet, "And the time has come for all here to know it"

"The blood of atonement has erased the blood of taint. Arise now, dear Jiub, take your place as a Saint."


End file.
